Page 12 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Chapter

Eleven

Staring at the hardwood floor, hands clasped in front of me, my stomach churns. I don’t look up. Not again. Not anymore. I’ve learned my lesson.

We’re in Necro’s office. Beneath my feet, rivers of red fill the cracks in the ancient wood floor. It looks like blood, but I know it’s not. It’s glossy, and it doesn’t smell like pennies.

Necro’s seated behind his desk, violently signing with Rot.

I don’t know what they’re saying because I’m not watching, but it’s been going on for a while.

Long enough to realize the pictures plastered across Necro’s space, which look like one-of-a-kind wallpaper, are of mutilated corpses—thousands of them.

None of them are the same. At first, I thought they were a clever art installation.

Something grotesque to match the old, eerie charm of the church.

But they’re not. They’re real. Arms missing.

A real heart resting on a man’s nether regions as his chest is cracked open, ribs gone, blood pooling around him.

Intricate slices carved in a fat leg that you’d expect to see in one of those fancy jack-o'-lanterns, not in flesh. Each image is glued to the next, creating a wall of visceral horror. When I moved to Necro’s floor-to-ceiling bookshelf to occupy myself as I tried not to freak out or throw up, I stopped browsing when I saw the human hand holding a vintage copy of Frankenstein . Its fingers are yellow.

Ew. Gross.

“We’re going. Enjoy your breakfast, brother,” Rot growls, grabs my bicep, and wheels me backward out of the office into the hallway, where he slams the door shut and curses. “What a dick.”

“What happened?” I inquire, knowing I can’t ask questions about what I saw, even though I want to. What possesses someone to plaster actual torture and death over every spare inch of their office walls? Why would he keep a human hand as a souvenir? Why are the cracks in the floor red?

Oh.

And the taxidermy bird.

A raven with wings outstretched, hanging from a wooden beam with crystal-carved runes for eyes.

I shiver at the memory.

Waving for me to follow, Rot talks as we walk. “Coffin left. He wasn’t supposed to go on a run, but he did. Fuckin’ douchebag.”

“Because I’m here,” I guess, since he seems to like me the least out of the three of them. Then again, Coffin hasn’t hurt me, which I can’t say for the other two.

Rot turns down another corridor. “Yeah,” he mumbles, still clearly pissed off.

“I’m sorry.” My fingertips brush the side of Rot’s arm in an effort to soothe him.

Causing problems wasn’t my intention. I was asked to be here.

They wanted me to come. How was I supposed to know Coffin would hate me?

Or that Necro would lock me in a literal casket?

If I had known any of that, I would have kicked Dark in the dick and run as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothin’ to be sorry for, Red. It’s his shit he needs to work through.”

“But you’re mad, and you were arguing with Necro.

” I point out as we climb a set of small steps through yet another maze of hallways.

From the outside, the church appears average.

Looks can be deceiving. It’s a labyrinth in here.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear we were living in another dimension that keeps going and going in an endless loop of cracked plaster walls, stone, and hardwood floors.

So much wood flooring. Most of it needs to be refinished or replaced, and all of it groans or squeaks as I do my best not to shuffle my feet in fear of getting a splinter.

We make our way to Rot’s bedroom, where he unlocks it with a key, pushes open the door, and lets me go in first. “Necro doesn’t want me spendin’ time with you, and he also doesn’t want you anywhere near his office.

It’s off-limits to women,” he explains, and I practically hear Rot’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he picks up the stack of books from the edge of his bed and sets them on the dresser next to the rest.

I drop into the corner chair Necro favors.

Rot toes off his boots and flexes his oddly attractive feet like he hates them being stuffed inside leather. Sighing, he runs his hand down the center of his chest and scratches near his belly button before sitting on the corner of his bed, facing me.

“Soooo…” I drawl and curl my legs into the chair.

“Soooo…” Rot mimics, wearing a saucy smile as he leans back and unfastens his jeans, retracts the zipper, and pulls out his half-hard cock.

Right. So, someone here wants to avoid real conversation in favor of sex. This I can do. Sex is easy.

Needing no instruction, I slide off the chair onto the floor and crawl to him—slowly, meeting his gaze.

Rot groans, and his eyelids grow heavier as he watches me watch him.

His shaft turns to steel just for me, and I lick my lips, desperate to have him in my mouth.

A bead of precum bubbles on the tip. Fitting myself between his legs, I sit up on my knees, not caring how hard the ground is as I devour him like a seasoned pro.

It’s wet. It’s sloppy. But damn, is it fun.

Massaging his balls in one hand, I use the other to jack him off as I devour every inch.

“Fuck!” Rot growls, grabs a fistful of my hair, and slams his hips up, driving himself down my throat like a jackhammer.

Moaning around the abuse, I fall into a daze and bask in his filthy, filthy words as he forces me to take his cock like a whore. His whore. “That’s it. Good girl… Fuck. You’re perfect. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. Your mouth was made to take my dick.”

I hum around a brutal thrust. Tears matte my lashes as I struggle to breathe. Saliva drips down my chin and soaks into my t-shirt. Arousal coats my inner thighs as he takes from me, and I crave it. Every second. Every minute. I need more.

Balls drawing up, Rot’s legs stiffen, and his cock swells between my drenched lips.

“Nugh. Fuck!” He drives to the hilt and holds me against his pubes. I wait for him to come, but he doesn’t. He trembles and pants. The fingers tangled in my hair tighten until I worry he’ll rip every strand from my scalp.

I whine in pain around his shaft.

Grunting, Rot shoves me off his cock. I fall hard on my ass, and he’s right there with me.

Dropping to his knees, he throws my legs apart and slams into my pussy.

Teeth sink into the side of my neck like a savage as he lays his much bigger body, damp with sweat, over me, swallowing me whole.

Curling my legs around his hips, I dig my heels into his tight, muscular ass.

Hot cum floods my center as he cups one ass cheek and drives to the hilt.

Crying out in pleasure, I score his back with my nails, and Rot fucks every last drop of his seed into my cunt.

Just when I think he’s done, he extracts his teeth from the side of my already bruised neck and carefully slides out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I gasp as he scoops both of his hands under my bottom, lifts my hips off the floor as if I weigh nothing, and shoves his face into my pussy—where he devours me like a fresh piece of watermelon on a hot summer’s day.

Moaning hotly against my center, he laps his spend from my folds and sucks my pierced clit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I slap the floor on either side of me as everything coils tighter and tighter. A whine wrenches out of my throat .

“Rot,” I wheeze, and he growls like a ravenous animal, eating me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” He laps at my core and shoves his tongue inside to fuck me with it.

I come.

It’s hard, fast, and all-consuming. Screaming, I black out for a moment as pleasure rips me in half and stitches me back together in the most delicious way.

I shake like a leaf, and he doesn’t let me go. Laving my clit once more, he gives her a sweet kiss before setting my ass back on the floor.

“I love to hear you come.” He grins almost shyly as he looks down at his cum-coated cock.

“Did you?” My chest heaves for air as I point to the still-rigid member, wondering if he came again. It sure looks like it.

“Yeah.” He nods, wiping the evidence away with two fingers and smearing it all over my red pubes.

I giggle, too high on endorphins to care. “What are you doing?”

“Givin’ Necro somethin’ to look at the next time he fucks you.”

I snort. “Really?”

“Yeah. I like seein’ you wear my cum.”

Stretching my arms above my head, I blow out a satisfied breath. “Me. Too. It feels good. And you… eating me after.” I kiss the tips of my fingers like a chef would. “So hot.”

“We taste good together,” he reasons.

“We do, huh?” I flash him a lazy, lopsided grin.

Wiping through my pussy with two fingers, Rot collects a little taste of us and presses it to my lips. I suck him in without question and moan around the burst of flavor across my tongue. He’s right. We taste incredible together.

“So good, right?” He waggles his brows.

I nod, pleasantly exhausted. “Yum.”

Smiling like a sweet, sweet man, not a hardcore biker, Rot helps me from the floor onto his bed. He rushes to the bathroom and is back a moment later with a warm washcloth, which he uses to wash me up while still leaving the cum in my pubes.

“They’re gonna get crusty,” I tease.

He shrugs. “Maybe. But Necro will know.”

“Is this a game you play?”

Rot cocks his head to the side in question, reminding me far too much of his friend and club president. “What do you mean?”

“Like you each fuck your women and use her to make the other jealous?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not jealous.”

“Then why leave the dried cum?”

“So, he knows I’ve been there when he fucks you next.”

“And he’s not gonna care?”

Rot shrugs again and leans down to kiss my belly button. “He told me not to fuck you.” He whispers against my skin and looks up. His eyes flash in defiance as a dark grin transforms his face into something equally sinister and sexy.

“When?” I push a piece of hair off his forehead as he nuzzles my stomach.

“In his office.”

“When you were fighting?” I guess.

“Yeah.”

“Do you fight often?”

“Not really. Only about this stuff.” He gestures between us.

“Women?”

Rot nods once.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I offer, hoping he wants to. Because I want to know everything. When you spend the majority of your adult life soaking up intel to use against others, every crumb, every morsel, leaves you wanting more.

He leans back on his knees. “No. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Do you wanna tell me what you were actually fighting about?” I press instead.

“No.” Done with the conversation, Rot climbs off the mattress and returns the washcloth to the bathroom. When he comes back, he stretches out with his head on a pillow at the top of the bed, still naked, and crosses his ankles. Blowing out an audible breath, he pats his chest. “Come here, Red.”

I slide up and curl my body around his, resting my cheek on his pec. He pulls me in tight and drapes my leg over his. My knee nestles against his soft cock.

Rot drags his lips across my forehead before kissing me there. “What do you want outta life?”

Surprised by his question, my heart gives an odd thump.

Nobody has ever asked me that before. Nobody has ever cared enough to ask. Not that I expect them to. Most of my conversations surround work.

Not sure what to say that doesn’t sound stupid, I trace a fingertip around his pierced nipple. “I dunno. You?”

“To keep you,” he whispers.

At his admission, a set of butterflies takes flight in my middle.

He wants to keep me? Why? Out of the forty-plus women he’s shared with his brothers, I’m nothing special.

Knowing how things work around here, he’s probably had this same conversation with each of the women, filling their heads with hearts and flowers and things that don’t exist. Hearts break, and flowers die.

It’s the circle of life. I can’t fall for it. I won’t.

Refusing to comment, I close my eyes and breathe him in—soap and musk.

A blanket of companionable silence falls across us. It’s comfortable, too comfortable, too warm, and too inviting. Before I realize what’s happening, my limbs grow heavy, and I drift off to sleep.